


Fara's Return

by Alescar



Series: Alescar and Other Related Tales [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alescar/pseuds/Alescar
Summary: What's I've been leading up to. The lore is all over the place and some things are mentioned once then never touched on again. The prophecy doesn't rhyme. I maintain the opinion that my first story was my best.





	Fara's Return

**Author's Note:**

> Last in the series. For future reference, Mina's name is pronounced my-nah, not mee-nah.

It all changed again that one day. I was just walking in the woods behind my house with Mina, when we came across two wrought iron bracelets. They were gorgeously intricate, each set with a clear stone that almost seemed to glow. When I touched one, it attached itself to my wrist. I couldn’t get it off. Odd. And creepy. The other one got on Mina’s wrist before she had bent down to pick it up. They began to grow warm. Pleasantly, at first, for it was a brisk day, but they soon became uncomfortably hot, and my world descended into a terrible blackness. 

_ Well, not blackness. More of a galaxy, the stars stretching out endlessly. It was beautiful, not terrible, and my breath caught in my throat. “I was wondering when you would arrive.” The voice came from behind me. I turned, not startled in the slightest. Somehow, a part of me knew the beautiful man in front of me. His hair was black, eyes scarlet, robes black. He seemed like a dark angel. _

_ “My dear, it really has been far too long. I am glad you received my gifts.” He reached out and stroked my face, and I smiled. It was a catlike smile, beautiful and calculating. I was his princess, his other half. But there was work to be done. My human host, Kathleen, shied away from his touch, but I ignored her. We would rule. Fara and Melkor.  _

When my eyes opened, I was plummeting towards the sea. I had been having the strangest dream, about something marred and milk? I wasn’t sure. But I had a bigger problem than strange dreams. I could see Mina falling next to me, still unconscious. We were in Middle-Earth, I could tell. Or at least, somewhere in Ea. I had been to Ea once before, and brought the Galadhrim out of Lothlorien when the outer trees had grown too thick to walk through. But then, I had been alone. I had read The Lord of the Rings, so I knew where I was. Now, I had no idea. But the ever-closer ocean was drawing near. I grabbed Mina’s arm, pulling her close to me. I could swim while hauling her. I would have to.

The ocean was warm, surprisingly so. My bracelet wanted to stay beneath the waves, and seemed to drag me down. I began to swim towards shore, with Mina beginning to wake up now that she had gotten a face full of salt water.

The shores were white, pristine. This could only be one place, Valinor. The most beautiful place in Ea. The Elves would be here. When I had been here in Ea last, as I had faded back to my math test, Lady Galadriel had foreseen a deep winter, to be ended by dragon fire. That boded well with no one. They had left to go back to Valinor. 

Wonderful. I was in a place that I knew almost nothing about, with a girl who knew nothing about this universe, with bracelets that may or may not be dangerous, and weird dreams about marred things and milk. This was not going to be one of my favorite visits. 

I went inland, Mina too stunned by what happened to ask questions. I just needed to find someone I knew. That was all. Then we could figure out what happened, and how to fix whatever problem had occurred. Last time I was here, I had been in places that had vivid descriptions, so I knew what to expect. This time, I was in a place few mortals had ever been, certainly not Tolkien.

Our clothes had changed. Gone were the jeans and t-shirts. Now, I was clothed as a Mirkwood scout again, and Mina an Elven lady. She probably wouldn’t be doing much fighting, then. Our clothes changed to best fit out future actions in this world. I would be doing things in the woods, apparently.

“Where did you get a bag?” Mina asked suddenly, bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Good question,” I responded, “However, I’m more concerned with what’s  _ in _ the bag.” And so we stopped, and looked in the bag.

It held books. Leather-bound books. I looked at the titles.

“ Alescar the Grey ,  The Forest Walker ,  The Deep Winter , and  Fara’s Return .” I said aloud. I knew these stories. One I had lived, and two others had come to me in dreams, but I felt were actually history.  Fara’s return remained a mystery, though. I tried to look inside, but the cover wouldn’t open, so I read the reviews the back. “ _ Your favorite heroes, Alescar, Kathleen, and Scarpa, come back in this action packed tale, with the evil Fara and Melkor out to possess Middle Earth! Definitely joining my shelf of favorites!”- John Smith, author of New Fork Times bestselling ‘Nilla Wafer’s Revenge.’” _ Hmm. So it was the story we were currently in. Good to know that our story would be sold in Stables and Valiant. 

“We need to get to someone I know,” I told Mina. We had already tarried here too long, daylight was starting to fade. There was a silhouette of someone on the horizon. We started walking in that direction. He saw us clearly before we could see him clearly. He started running towards us, Elven speed and grace making him faster than a human could ever be. As he came closer, I could see his features. Legolas. I started running towards him, dragging Mina with me. 

“I didn’t expect you would come to this world again,” He said, “How did you get here?” 

“I’m not sure,” I responded, “But it’s probably important. All these things, Medea and the trees and the winter, they’re connected. Everything is in one of the books in my bag,  Alescar the Grey ,  The Forest Walker ,  The Deep Winter . But the one we’re in now is called  Fara’s Return , and that’s what I’m worried about.” His eyes widened. “Fara is the immortal lover of Melkor, who is sometimes known as Morgoth. If she’s back, he won't be far behind. We need to get to Elrond, Celeborn, or Galadriel.” He said. My eyes widened. 

“What about the bracelets?” Mina asked. 

“What bracelets?” Legolas responded. 

“These.” I answered, pulling up Mina’s hand and showing him the jewelry on our wrists. “They appeared in our path, magically attached themselves to our wrists, grew hot, and brought us to Ea.” 

“Odd,” Legolas responded, “But even more reason to hurry.” 

As it turns out, the first person we came upon whom I recognised was Thranduil. He was talking to a dark haired Elf, but turned as we approached. 

“Hello, Lord Elrond. Father.” 

“Legolas,” The dark haired Elf spoke. I supposed he was Lord Elrond. “Why did you bring two more mortals to Valinor, how did you do it so quickly, and why are they dressed as Elves?” 

“I didn’t bring them, and I don’t know why they are dressed this way.” 

“Then how did they get here?” 

“Bracelets.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

I held up my left wrist. The white stone caught the light in a beautiful way. Lord Elrond caught my wrist and looked closely at the bracelet. 

“Strange,” he murmured, “The ironwork looks almost like it was forged in Eregion. But they never made any bracelets in Eregion.” Suddenly, a girl, who looked about 18, came from the woods behind him.

“What if it was forged in that style to confuse you?” She asked. She had obviously been listening to our conversation. 

“Perhaps, Alescar,” said Thranduil, “But why? And how would they do it so perfectly?” The girl, Alescar, furrowed her brows. At last, she said, 

“They would have been alive when Eregion still existed.” 

Now it was Elrond’s turn to furrow his brows. “But who?”

“Fara. Or perhaps Morgoth.” Legolas answered. Elrond, Thranduil, and Alescar snapped their gazes towards him. 

“Who or Morgoth?” Alescar asked. I suppose she didn’t know all the history yet. I knew her story, she was the age she looked to be. 

“Fara,” explained Elrond, “Is the immortal lover of Melkor, bound to him by a blood oath.” Alescar now looked far away. Then she came back, and said, 

“The person Medea envied, then.” 

“Why would Medea envy Fara?” Legolas asked. It was a good question. 

“She was in love with Morgoth.” This surprised us all. Well, except for Mina. She didn’t know who Morgoth or Medea were. She was confused, trying to follow the names in our discussions. I knew she should have read  The Silmarillion .

“We need to tell Galadriel,” Alescar stated, “She and Celeborn should know this.” 

“I agree,” Responded Elrond, “But we cannot keep this among Elves. The Valar must know as well.” There was a collective groan. 

“Must they?” Complained Alescar, “They’ll treat us like children and keep us out of the investigation.” 

“I know,” Responded Elrond, “But Morgoth used to be one of them. They deserve to know as much as we do, likely more.” Even as he said this, he looked less enthusiastic by the second. They all did. 

“Come.” Elrond said, effectively bringing us out of our thoughts, “Tonight we rest, and tomorrow we go to the Valar.”

… 

Mina

...

This is crazy. I’ll just say it now. I’m in Middle Earth. With Kathleen. And there are some bad people on the loose, because this is being recorded in a book. Now I know why Kathleen wanted me to read  The Silmarillion so badly. She knew that Middle Earth was real. And now, I was sleeping in an Elven house, about to go to the Valar, because there were bad people around. Yep, crazy. And I forgot to add, there’s a possibly dangerous bracelet that won’t come off my wrist. I guess it’s fun to read about adventures, but never take part in them. I would have fit well in the Shire, had I not been so tall. 

As we rode to the Halls of Manwe, I thought about how we would convince them. We had books, bracelets, and Kathleen’s words. We were doomed. Legolas, Thranduil, and Elrond conversed quietly in their own language. Kathleen listened intently, like she knew some of the words and was trying to piece the rest together. She had spent months taking online Sindarin and Quenya courses. I guess they paid off.

Manwe’s halls are breathtaking. Soaring arches, floating fountains, and as much nature as possible. Flowering vines on the large trees used as pillars. You could practically feel the life flowing from place to place. Roofs made of crisscrossing branches. And birds. Everywhere. Mostly eagles. Kathleen once told me about a connection between Manwe and eagles, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I hope it’s not important. 

“Where are all the people?” Kathleen asked. Wow. With all the nature-ey stuff, I hadn’t realized that there was no one else around. 

“At the hearing,” Elrond answered, his voice grave, “A dragon landed here three days ago, claiming to have the same name of a lady of Manwe’s court.” 

“Scarpa.” Kathleen breathed. Wow, she knew more than Tolkien did. I didn’t read The Silmarillion, but Kathleen had lectured me on the Tolkienverse. She even went so far as to make an Elf costume for Halloween. Unfortunately, it was cold that year, and she ended up going as an Elfsicle. But I’m getting off topic. 

Elrond stared at Kathleen, his eternal eyes running deep with both wisdom and surprise. 

“How do you know that name?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. 

“It was in  The Deep Winter ,” she responded quietly, “It was the name of the protagonist, the dragon who ended the winter by setting Fara ablaze.” Now I was thoroughly confused. There were too many complicated names. They really needed to make a character guide. 

“If that book is true, then a court member is false,” Elrond responded, “And an innocent dragon is about to be killed.” 

Thranduil muttered something about no dragons being innocent, right before we reached what I could only assume was the courtroom.

...

Scarpa

… 

Why, of all names, would she pick mine? Fara would have had no way to know I was coming to Valinor. She would have no means to infiltrate the court of Manwe undetected. And how? It had been three days since I defeated her, two months since the beginning of the winter, and three months since the Elves had left for the second time. Two months to gain power, three days after losing it, and back with a vengeance. She had  _ died, _ for Eru’s sake. None of this made sense, and yet, it was. Morgoth was back, but no one would believe it. Fara had infiltrated the court, but no one knew. And here I was, trying to defend the truth. They had demanded my name. I had given it. They had called me a liar and put me on trial. This was ridiculous. They, the most informed and powerful beings in all of Ea, were blind to the truth. Alas.

“If you would just tell us your name, we wouldn’t be going through this.” That was Yavanna, trying to be diplomatic. Alas that her efforts were in vain. As long as Fara’s deception remained unknown, the conversation would go nowhere. Perhaps there was a truth spell they could use to tell I was honest. Ha. As if Fara would let that happen. She would do some complicated and silent counterspell. But I’m getting away from the story.

Manwe sat forward. He had graced the court with his presence, but I could see that he was regretting it. However, I was a “threat” to Valinor. Lovely. I couldn’t get very far with all these Valar, they would stop me from doing anything. Of course, the trial was better than a direct execution. At least now, I had a fair-ish chance. If someone came in on my behalf. That was unlikely. The only people who would have intervened knew about Smaug. No one would come.

“Dragon,” Varda’s voice broke into my thoughts, “Why do you continue to lie? It shall give you no advantage. We ask you again, what is your name?” I gritted my teeth. The same question got the same answer.

“Scarpa.” I said, an edge in my voice, “My name is Scarpa.” the entire courtroom sighed. We were getting nowhere, so once they mentioned Fara, it would be time for a wild accusation.

“ _ She _ is Scarpa,” Varda replied, gesturing towards Fara, “Who else would she be?”

“Fara,” I answered, “Bride of Morgoth.” Gasps echoed throughout the courtroom. 

“But how could she be Fara?” Varda asked, “We would have noticed something by now.”

“Not necessarily,” A new voice said, “The followers of Morgoth have posed as friends before.”

Everyone turned to the newcomer, and I was surprised that it was a group rather than just one person. Two girls with dark hair, one blond girl, two men with white-blond hair, and a dark-haired man had entered the courtroom unnoticed. The dark-haired man continued.

“I have two mortal girls with bracelets forged in Eregion. They have a bag of four books, two of which I know the stories of. One of the ones I don’t know is called  Fara’s Return , and refuses to open. The other is about a dragon named Scarpa delaying the return of Fara. You would know if what I have just said is a lie, so is it?”

Everyone in the room was silent. Then, Fara dared to speak.

“He speaks the truth,” She said, “I am Fara. However, I have turned from the path of darkness. Melkor holds no sway over my heart nor my mind.”

“And yet you call him Melkor,” The older of the two dark-haired girls observed, “Why?”

“Habit,” Fara replied, “I was bound to him for a long time.”

“And how did your blood oath break?” I asked. 

At this, Fara blanched. Manwe’s eyebrows furrowed, before coming to an understanding. 

“Fa-” He was suddenly cut off by Fara disappearing into thin air. His eyebrows furrowed for the second time, before they relaxed. He looked at the group.

“Where did you say those bracelets had come from, again?”

...

Alescar

...

“Eregion,” Elrond answered, “They appear to have been made in Eregion.” Everyone in the room raised their eyebrows. Eregion had been gone for years. 

“What of the blessed girl?” Varda asked, “Why does her talisman fight her?”

Blessed girl? Oh. Kathleen. She could command the trees. I supposed that that counted as a blessing. But, fight her? What could-

“ _ Alescar,” _ Aragog asked in my mind, “ _ How did Medea die, again?”  _ I mentally sighed. Medea, a dark enchantress I had defeated, was constantly being asked about.

“ _ She tried to kill me,” I replied, “But the spell hit a mirror and hit her instead.” _

“ _ Thanks,”  _ He responded _ , “My mom wanted to know. Oh, and tell Elrond that she says hi.” _

_ “Will do,”  _ I replied, before turning my attention to my current situation. Elrond was discussing with Manwe why the talisman could be against Kathleen. Most of the other people in the room looked bored, except for Yavanna. Her brow was scrunched up, like an answer was eluding her. Then, understanding swept across her face.

“She wears the Silmaril of the sea,” she interrupted, earning surprised looks from everyone. She was usually so patient, waiting until the end of conversations to tell someone something. 

“And the other girl,” Elrond asked, “Whose name I have not learned?” 

“Perhaps the Silmaril of the earth. Wait, what  _ is _ her name?”

“Mina.” Kathleen responded.

“Like the bird?”

“Different spelling, but pretty much.” Mina responded. 

“And people don’t call you Meena?”

“Sometimes. Aren’t we getting off topic?” 

“Yes,” Elrond broke in, “You are.”

“Silmarils,” I wondered, “But they were lost long ago, weren’t they?”

“Everything lost can be found,” Varda answered ominously.

Then, everyone over 100 launched into a conversation about Silmarils. Kathleen, Mina, and I were just standing there awkwardly, so I decided to talk to Aragog about the winter.

“ _ What are you doing?” _ I asked. It was a good enough way to start a conversation.

“ _ Nothing at the moment. What do you need to talk about?”  _ He responded. 

“ _ The winter. _ ” I answered

“ _ That’s a strange topic. Some guy claims that an enchantress caused it, and she was killed by a white dragon. My parents are still trying to figure it out, and all they’ve gotten is that the storm originated in Mordor. _ ” Well, there was no information in Gondor.

“ _ Yes,”  _ I replied, “ _ The enchantress’s name is Fara, the dragon’s name is Scarpa, and both are still alive.” _

“ _ What!? You mean that all this time, it was true!?”  _ He was practically shouting in my mind. 

“ _ Yep,”  _ I answered, “ _ And we have a large mess, with Silmarils, Morgoth, the girl who released the Galadhrim, and another dimension.” _ That would bother him. Aragog  _ hated _ being left out of the action.

“ _ Why do you get all of the quests? You don’t have a legacy to live up to.” _ He was almost right.

“ _ Maybe I don’t have a legacy,” _ I responded, “ _ But I’m trying to live up to everyone’s expectations for a Grey Wizard and the daughter of Thranduil.” _ That was a little harsh, but he had irritated me a little.

“ _ Okay,” _ He replied, “ _ We’re both trying to live up to expectations. Know this: If you see sails on the horizon, don’t shoot.” _ I sighed. Then I noticed that everyone in the courtroom was staring at me.

“What news from Gondor?” Legolas asked.

“Aragog is coming,” I replied.

...

Kathleen

...

I wracked my brain, trying to remember who Aragog was. He wasn’t in Tolkien’s works, so he was somewhere in the history I had received in dreams. He wasn’t with Scarpa, so… Ah! He was Alescar’s long-distance lover and prince of Gondor. And he was coming here. When Alescar had spaced out, I had thought that she was just thinking. Turned out she was talking to someone. This could get confusing. 

Mina looked confused. No one had told her who the heck Aragog was, so she was probably thinking of the spider from  Harry Potter , which wasn’t necessarily wrong, just that the acromantulas in Ea didn’t speak English/Common Tongue. Alescar noticed, and explained her.

“He’s the prince of Gondor. We have a mental link, which is sort of like telepathy with only one other person.” Now Mina looked only slightly less confused, for there was still a question.

“I thought that Gondor’s prince was named Eldarion.” She commented. Legolas smiled, like he knew where this was going. 

“Aragog has two names,” He explained, “Like how Aragorn is also called Elessar.” Now Mina understood. Manwe smiled. We were all so much younger than him. Practically children. Then we got back on topic.

“The addition of another mortal will complicate things,” Varda said, “Are you sure that this is wise?” Alescar bristled. She was dating Aragog, and Varda had just made a comment that could be perceived as an insult. The relationship between them could be… strenuous. And interesting. If they ever got into an argument, I would side with Alescar. Sure, we mortals made things complicated. We also brought the priceless heirlooms of your people, which had been thought to have been lost forever. 

“Aragog will cause no harm,” she answered, “He has no ill will against any of us.” Varda frowned. For the supposedly most beautiful  _ ever _ , she looked surprisingly… shadowed. Like she wasn’t quite as pure as the legends said, though close.

“He will make things much more difficult to deal with,” She replied, “While being of no real use.” Now it was Manwe’s turn to frown. 

“My dear, are you sure you're feeling alright?” He asked Varda, “You don’t sound like yourself.” As he said this, he covered her hand with his, before jerking it back suddenly.

“You're cold,” He said, dread in his voice, “Cold as the dead.”

As I watched, the illusion of Varda rotted away to reveal the corpse of a woman who looked only vaguely similar. She was young, with dirty blonde hair and grey eyes. She would have been pretty, once, but death had taken its toll. People stepped back collectively as her body fell to the floor. It was a long while, but eventually Manwe spoke.

“There were two spies in the court,” He said, looking shaken, “And the return of an enemy thought to have been banished forever. By the hand of Eru Illúvatar, I hope we can overcome this situation.”

...

Mina

...

There was a dead body in the room, and it had just been talking. I hadn’t even listened to what Manwe had said, it was too creepy. Scarpa looked particularly shaken. 

“I’ve seen that woman before,” She said, her voice trembling, “She was outside Fara’s ice castle, yelling up at the walls. Her daughter had had hypothermia.” Everyone in the room was silent at this. The winter had only ended a few days before, yet this woman looked to have been dead for about two weeks. I knew this because my little sister, Marlee, wanted to be a mortician when she grew up. 

“How long…” Yavanna wondered, “How long ago was Varda taken?” Her voice trembled as well. This was  _ Valinor _ , for god’s sake. These were the second most powerful people in two worlds. And yet, one had been kidnapped and replaced without notice. 

“Last night. She disappeared for about an hour. I thought that she was simply reading… I never expected this.” Manwe’s voice did not tremble. Instead, it was a deathly quiet. 

“Here’s my question,” I asked, “How is it that this woman appears to have been dead for two weeks, when she was seen alive only a few days ago?”

“How are you so certain that she looks two week’s dead?” Alescar asked.

“My sister wants to be a mortician.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She’s strange like that.” Kathleen could probably explain it. She liked to talk about genocide and autopsy with Marlee. I was not Kathleen, however.

“Time works in different ways between dimensions,” Kathleen said, sounding far away, “No time had passed when I returned last time.” Murmurs broke out within the small crowd. Manwe responded to her, though.

“I must take this before the council. This no longer concerns you.” 

“No longer concerns us?” Scarpa sounded angry, “What about the girls from another world, who have Silmarils on their wrists? Do you expect them to go back and forget this?”

“No,” He answered, “And you raise a valid point. Mina, would you be willing to stay?”

“Not without Kathleen,” I answered, “She knows more about this, anyways.”

“There’s no point in this,” Yavanna broke in, “They’ll find a way to convince you to let them all come.”

“Will you?” Manwe asked out group. Alescar gave a small shrug.

“Perhaps.” She answered.

...

Scarpa

...

I liked Alescar. She was strong, and respected, and still stubborn enough to make a point. We dragons are feared, but never respected. We never had a chance to gain any respect, because people kept trying to kill us. And we killed them in defense, and they killed us in retaliation… and so on and so forth. An endless cycle of death. The old dwarves had respected us, though. Our fires lit their forges, allowing them to create impossibly good armour, weapons, and pretty much anything else. Nowadays, the dwarves made fair crafts, but never those that equaled the crafts of their forebears. But what am I doing. I haven’t even told you the setting.

The Valar have called a council with  _ everyone _ . At least, everyone important. Those who were less powerful didn’t come. And Mandos decided to skip it. He was going to stay keeping watch over the dead, and hopefully stop any more people’s bodies from being glamoured and used as decoys. Ulmo was here, though, which was unexpected. He was hard to reach, but apparently wished to know more of how the Silmaril was retrieved without his knowing. And that was a fair question, it was in my mind as well. 

“Welcome, brothers, to the Council of the Silmarils.” Manwe opened the council with. Of  _ course _ the council had to have a name. Not like we would get this confused with the Council of Elrond, or White Council, or anything like that. Not a chance.

“We are here because Morgoth had returned, with an unexplained ability to use corpses to impersonate people.”

“It’s explained,” I interrupted. Everyone stared at me. I kept going, “Glamours are simple to make, with the right ingredients. Mirror shards, eggshell, various parts of a chameleon, three strands of the person’s hair, the right incantation, and…” I wracked my brain, trying to remember the last ingredient.

“Three drops of the person’s blood.” Kathleen offered. I looked at her strangely. 

“Yes,” I answered, “That was it.” Now, the Valar were murmuring to each other. 

“How would either of you know these things?” Aule asked. Fair enough.

“Not all dragons devote their lives to death,” I replied, “Some of us have had the time to use magic.”

“And Kathleen,” He replied, “How does she know?” I didn’t know that one, and looked at Kathleen.

“It was in a book I read once,” She answered, “I didn’t know that there was any truth to it. And the result was terrible.” She was right. The person whose face was stolen would receive the memories made by the person wearing the glamour, until the magician was more like the person than the person themself. I told this to the council. Manwe went white. The other Valar paled slightly. The Elven lords, Galadriel, Elrond, and Thranduil, remained stoic. And Gandalf, Gandalf the White, looked thoughtful

...

Alescar

...

Why, oh why, did Aragog have to come? I’d already lost Beo to a enchantress in love with Morgoth. I don’t want to be repeating history. Yes, I’m worrying about my love life right now. Okay, you're right, I’ll stop.

Kathleen and Scarpa knew more than the Valar. That was surprising. A dragon and a girl from another world… Odd. 

“If Varda was being used as a glamour, then she no longer is now, for we have caught the corpse. And there may be more than one type of glamour, some type that the dragons haven’t found yet.” Gandalf’s words broke through my mental tirade, and comforted the council.

“There may be glamours that the other dragons  _ have _ found,” Scarpa replied, “And I simply haven’t heard about them.”

It was logical. She hadn’t lived in Far Harad with the other dragons, she had lived in a northern cave, near some Dwarves. She would have no way of knowing about any new developments. 

“But how will we know if there are?” Aule asked, “We have no way of reaching the dragons in time. The safety of Lady Elbereth hangs in the balance.”

“Who?” Mina whispered. Few noticed it.

“Varda,” Scarpa whispered back, “She has many names.”

As she was saying this, she touched Mina’s hand. Mina’s back went straight up, and her eyes turned silver. She spoke in a loud but hissing voice, quite unlike her own:

“ _ Six share a fate, _

_ Blades and blood, _

_ The lady of hate, _

_ Will send down her flood, _

_ Down to the plain, _

_ Between the two fiends, _

_ Great shall be the pain _

_ ‘Till her bindings break _ ”

Then it was over, and Mina’s eyes returned to normal. No one spoke for a moment. 

“A seer?” Yavanna asked, “This girl is a seer?”

“It appears so,” Manwe answered, “But only with the touch of a dragon.”

“Who are the six?” Aule asked, before his question got answered immediately as there was a bright flash.

Sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room were two people, Aragog and a girl who looked like Mina.

“Aragog,” I asked, “How did you…” My voice trailed off as the small Mina stood up.

“Who are you?” Manwe asked her, kindness in his tone.

“My name is Marlee,” The girl, Marlee, I suppose, answered.

Then she saw Kathleen and raised her eyebrows. Kathleen grinned.

“You two know each other?” Legolas asked. Mina, I noticed, was looking like she was happy to see the girl but still a little sour about something.

“She’s my sister.” Mina answered.

“The one who wants to be a mortician?”

“Yep.”

“Who asked about me being a mortician?” Marlee asked.

...

Kathleen

...

“It came up when we noticed the dead body, which is… somewhere.” I answered. I was happy Marlee was here, although a bit disappointed that the prophecy didn’t fully rhyme. 

“On another note,” Yavanna broke in, “How did you get here?”

“I went after Kathleen and Mina,” Marlee answered, “And as they bent down to look at something, I got sent here.”

“I got pulled off my boat,” Aragog said, telling his story, “And also went here instantaneously.” 

Odd. Marlee got pulled at the same time we did, yet she came to Ea the day  _ after _ we did. And she didn’t have a bracelet.

“Do you know what you were looking at?” Yavanna asked me.

“The bracelets.” I answered.

“Yet she came a day after you did.”

“Maybe it was proximity,” Alescar broke in, “Causing the time rift.”

So Marlee could have come to Ea just by being near me? What about the bugs and flowers? Did they come too?

“As interesting as this is,” Manwe said, breaking our concentration, “This is not what we came to discuss. There is a prophecy, which doesn’t quite rhyme, which we now have to worry about.”

“A prophecy?” Aragog asked, “Like the one about Alescar?”

“Yes,” Elrond answered, “Like the one about Alescar. Although, that one rhymed. And wasn’t brought about by a dragon and a girl from another world.”

“You're…” Aragog trailed off, looking at us dimension-travelers, “You're from another world?”

“Yes, but we’re getting off on a tangent,” I said, bringing the conversation back to Manwe.

“I believe we know who the six are,” He said, nodding at the six people younger than 100, “And the Lady of Hate must be Fara. Yet who are the two fiends?”

No one answered. 

“I’m more concerned about the part with the bindings,” Galadriel responded, for the first time taking part in the conversation, “And how they are to be broken.”

“Why should we break Fara’s bindings?” Aragog asked, impulsively.

“You weren’t here for the beginning of the conversation, so your ignorance can be excused,” Elrond answered, “Fara is bound to Morgoth, and he controls her every thought. If those bindings were to break, we could have a  _ very _ powerful ally in our war against Morgoth.”

 

...

Mina

...

I had quickly gotten lost in all the names. Then, when Scarpa had touched me, it had felt like ice water was flooding through my veins. Now, I’ve just gotten off a boat at the Grey Havens. I’m sorry I don’t quite recall what happened after Kathleen left off, but the gist of it is this: we have to free Fara from a binding she went into willingly. And we can only do that with the help of a  _ Questing Beast _ . Why the heck is there a creature from  Once and Future King here? Of course, Alescar says that it’s not from  Once and Future King, and she knows who it is, but still, this is very confusing. Okay, now that’s I’ve given some explanation, I’ll get to the story.

“Okay, so where exactly are we going?” Kathleen asked Alescar.

“I know the Questing Beast. And he’s not really a beast, he merely turns into a bear.”

“A skin-changer?” Scarpa broke in, “I thought those were myths.”

“So are dragons.”

“Fair point. How did he get the name Questing Beast?”

“He occasionally goes on quests and can turn into a beast. Oh, and his name in Bain. I used to know his son, Beo.”

“Bain and Beo?” I broke in, “That sounds confusing.”

“Like the seven Durins?” Kathleen challenged.

“That you can keep straight.”

“Guys,” Aragog interrupted, “Should we stop discussing names and actually start to go?”

Always practical. 

“Er… No offence, but  _ how _ exactly are we going to get there?” Scarpa asked, “It’s past the mountains. I could go there, but you…” She trailed off.

“Good question,” Aragog replied, “But we have an answer.” 

Suddenly, Alescar gave a loud, sharp whistle. Scarpa winced at the noise, but it had done its job.

Three silver blurs were coming towards us from beyond the horizon, looking like mercury in the light.

“Graymayre, Silverslip, and… Shadowfax?” Aragog named off, “When did you have time to befriend him?” 

“I didn’t.” Alescar said, confused. However it soon became apparent.

Shadowfax came straight towards  _ me _ . I suddenly saw that I was looking at the wind, and he could take me anywhere.

Marlee looked shocked. Scarpa looked suspicious. Kathleen, Alescar and Aragog looked speculative. 

“Well,” Aragog said, breaking the silence, “I guess we should get going.” Everyone snapped out of the daze at his words, and Alescar took command.

“Scarpa, you’ll ride with me on Graymayre. Marlee and Aragog, take Silverslip. And…” She trailed off, trying to find an answer to having at least one good rider on each horse.

“I can ride,” Kathleen spoke up, “Although I’ve never done it with someone else also on.”

“It’s not difficult,” Aragog assured her, “Just takes some getting used to.”

And so, we mounted and rode away.

...

Scarpa

...

We were galloping while trying not to open our eyes. It made us nauseous to look at distances bend to become shorter. No, I don’t know how it works. I’m going to skim this part, it’s not that interesting.

We stopped at a small house somewhere between the mountains and Mirkwood. There was a stump outside for cutting wood on, and a small garden. In the midmorning light, it looked so, so innocent. I didn’t trust that the person inside would help us. Alas that I was right.

Alescar knocked on the door. No one opened it, but someone did yell “Go away!” from inside.

“Bain, please. It’s me, Alescar. Would you please open the door?” 

The door opened, and I finally got to look at the skin-changer. It was odd.

“Alescar,” He said, his voice gruff, “What do you want?”

“Your help,” She answered, “We need to remove a binding from someone.”

His face softened in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, child,” He answered, “I’m no good for that. Beo was, though he’s…” He trailed off, an I recalled the memory of Alescar’s story, and how Beo had had an important part in saving Gondor.

“Oh.” Alescar was disappointed, though she tried to hide it, “Do you know anyone who could help?”

Now Bain looked speculative.

“Any creature who has a human avatar and a good deal of magic could do it,” He said, lost in thought, “So try a werewolf. A dragon would be ideal, but you’d have a hard time not getting eaten.”

Aragog looked at me out of the corner of his eye, judging my reaction. I did nothing.

“Thank you,” Alescar said, her voice saturated with relief, “You have no idea how good that is to hear.”

“You're welcome,” he replied, looking confused, “I hope you have little trouble finding a werewolf.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to find someone,” She answered, “I hope I get the chance to see you again. If not, then everyone will be dead. Bye.”

“Bye.” He said, and closed the door. Alescar looked at me.

“So I guess I’m your Questing beast,” I said, “You’ll have to tell me what to do”

“No trouble.” She said, “I’m just glad we don’t have to hunt down a werewolf.”

Finally, things were looking up.

...

Alescar

...

I had no idea where I was going. The prophecy was bouncing around in my head, and I was trying to recall all the plains between countries. I could somewhat remember Pelennor, but not the name of the place between Mordor and Gondor. That meant I was just heading towards Minas Tirith, in the hopes that there would be a map somewhere. 

“So, where are we going, exactly?” Scarpa asked. It was a miracle I could hear her.

“Minas Tirith,” I replied, “I can’t remember the name of the field where the final battle against Mordor was fought, and they should have a map.”

“It was fought in the field of Cormallen,” Kathleen broke in, “Are you thinking about the prophecy?”

Well, Kathleen had evidently looked at a map.

“Yes,” I answered, “Now we just have to find out what Fara will be flooding it with.”

“Then we had better get home quickly,” Aragog interjected, “Ever since we got the message of Fara, we’ve been closing the city gates at nightfall.”

Well, that was… wise, I suppose. Still, we were approaching nightfall quickly, and I urged Graymayre faster. We had passed the south end of the mountains, but still… 

I’m going to skip most of the ride. That was the only really important part. Well, that and when we started to see the detail on the tiered city. 

“The gates are closing,” Aragog said, “We won’t make it.”

“Yes, we will.” I responded.  I knew what these horses could do.

The gates were closed. Too bad.

As we leapt, I could see the guards drawing their weapons, before recognising Aragog. There was someone else, though. Someone who recognised  _ me _ . Gybryne, a captain. 

“Well, Alescar,” He said, smiling, “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

...

Marlee

...

So this was Minas Tirith. The city that had held against the might of Mordor.  It’s more open than I thought it would be. Not nearly as crowded as it was in the movies. Much prettier, too.

Alescar was talking to someone. He looked about 40, and was wearing light leather armour. 

“So,” He said, “Who did you bring?”

Alescar gestured to each of us as she explained who we were.

“We have Kathleen, the Forest Walker, her friends Mina and Marlee, and Scarpa, a dragon.” Immediate distrust broke out in the small crowd that had gathered. The man, however, looked pensive. 

“You can make your way to the top layer yourself,” He said, “I trust you know the way.”

Aragog smiled. It was weird to think of him as a prince, he seemed so…  _ normal _ . Not condescending or anything. Of course, books may have biased me.

Alescar led us past throngs of people whispering. Despite the fact that it was night, it seemed that everyone was out to enjoy the warm night. Oh, and I forgot to mention, our horses had left the city, this time by a small door. Much easier than opening the gates again.

There were few people out on the top tier. The air was thinner here, so it made sense. However, there was a couple out on a balcony, enjoying the view. They turned as we approached, and I could see their faces. Aragorn and Arwen. Unfortunately, those faces were grave. They beckoned, and we followed them inside.

“Gybryne has informed us of the situation. It may not seem like it, but even here, we are in peril most great.” Aragorn said, once we were in a room with a closed door. “What news do you bring from Valinor?”

“A prophecy,” Aragog said bitterly. It didn’t suit him.

“What did it say?”

Alescar recounted it.

“That doesn’t rhyme.” 

“We know,” Scarpa said, “But it’s what we have.”

“Come,” Arwen said, “We can discuss this in the morning. For now, rest.”

...

Aragog

...

It was good to be home. Even with the threat of the end of the world, the wind on my face was comforting, familiar. I was standing on the same balcony my parents had been on earlier, although I was alone. All the girls were asleep. I stared off at the dark horizon, lost in thought. However, I soon heard footsteps behind me. I turned.

She was standing silently in the moonlight, her dark hair tumbling down around sapphire eyes. Alescar.

“Hey.” I said. 

“Hey yourself,” She replied, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Speak for yourself.” It was so easy to be near her, like breathing. This  _ thing _ that linked us, it was so strong, I wondered if she could hear the thoughts in my head. I hoped not. 

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?” I asked, trying to distract myself.

“We’ll talk.” She answered, “And the politicians will argue, and Arwen will try to calm them, and we’ll end up sneaking out just so we can finish a quest.” She was right, of course. Gondorian bureaucracy rarely made decisions. And… 

“Look,” She said, cutting off my train of thought, “Horses. Rohirrim horses. Weren’t they supposed to be coming next week?” I looked, and sure enough, there were horses galloping over Pelennor, but behind them were wargs. I didn’t know how she could tell they were Rohirrim, though. 

“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the halls, where we could see my parents and the other four people in the prophecy. My father raised his eyebrows,

“Did no one sleep?” He asked, before we all started racing  down the halls, twisting around the corners, slowly making our way to the gates, which were being opened. I could see Rohirrim bowmen shooting off wargs, but more and more of their swordsmen were turning to fight. It was a medium-sized company, mainly bowmen, but there were a few swordsmen and civilians thrown in.

It was just then that I noticed Alescar had grabbed her bow, and was picking off wargs. However, before I could say anything, Scarpa leapt off of the wall.

...

Kathleen

...

She was beautiful, a shimmery, prismatic white. Powerful wings, glowing in the moonlight. As I watched, she killed huge swathes of wargs, though she never used fire, for fear of burning the land. She was a force of nature, massacring the wargs. They didn’t have a chance, and it was only a few seconds before they were all dead. Scarpa seemed to fold in on herself, coming to land- as a human- back on the wall where the rest of us were. Aragorn looked grim, Arwen slightly fearful, with good reason. We were standing on a wall with someone who could turn into a 1,000 kilogram flying lizard. 

“You…” Alescar looked starstruck. 

“Turn into a giant lizard. I know.”  Ah, sarcasm. The last refuge for the tired. 

“No fire?” Arwen asked.

“Not so close to the city. Too many people.” Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike her.

“What’s currently in Cormallen?” She asked carefully.

“A- a large town, why?” Arwen answered.

“Because at one end of the plain is Orodruin,” Alescar finished for Scarpa, “A flood of lava.”

...

Mina

...

While everyone else was talking, I was watching the Rohirrim approach. They were being led by a woman with hair like strands of gold. I recognised her from Tolkien’s description. Lady Eowyn. 

“My king Aragorn,” She called up to us, “May we enter?” 

The gates opened slightly, allowing the riders to pass through. We hurried down a small staircase in the wall.

“Why have you come at such a dire hour?” Aragorn asked, his face grave.

“We needed a distraction to bring the Wargs away. I did not realize that they would chase us this far.” 

He nodded.

“Welcome. Please, follow us, and we shall convene, regardless of the blasted hour.”

As we walked, I noticed that Alescar was cool, courteous to Eowyn. I idly wondered what their history was.

...

Scarpa

...

I was still high off of the night air. We were in an inner chamber, and there were a few guards. Gybryne was there.

“What are we supposed to do to defeat Fara?” Aragorn asked, effectively skipping formalities. 

“Supposedly, all Scarpa needs to do is touch her, and the binding spell will come off,” Alescar answered. At the odd looks she got, “I looked in the library.”

“So how are we going to get Scarpa into the Dark Lady’s fortress?” Eowyn asked, “It is made of trees grown so thickly that the largest battering ram in the world could not penetrate it.”

“I can take care of that,” Kathleen chimed in. Aragorn nodded.

“So you shall remove the barrier, and Scarpa will find a way to make it to Fara without dying. Will everyone else be there for support?” Military support, of course, the emotional stuff is useless in combat.

Aragorn and Eowyn conferred a bit more about how to effectively fight wargs, but I wasn’t listening. I was thinking of how to navigate Fara’s fortress. Finally, though, the meeting came to a close. We were all exhausted, but we couldn’t afford to wait. The forces of Gondor and Rohan would distract the wargs, whilst our group came in the back way. No, we didn’t know what the back way was. 

...

Alescar

...

I was riding a dragon. It wasn’t for long, but it was fun, and I was a bit reluctant to stop when we landed. We landed in a tree, by the way. It was the only way to get off.

Kathleen led the way through the dark wood. The path opened up in front of her, as if it had always been there. When we reached the wall of trees, I could see her looking at them, trying to find the best way it. Then, the bottom parts of their trunks curved, allowing us to pass through without alerting anyone, but they snapped back afterward. I shivered. We were trapped. 

...

Marlee

...

I was going to face off against a Valar. She had a bunch of magic, and I had a dagger. Lovely. 

...

Scarpa

...

I was leading through the keep, as I had had the best view when flying overhead.  All too soon, though, we reached the great hall.

...

Aragog

...

Two daggers, a bow, and a sword. Those were the weapons we had. Oh, man, we were doomed.

...

Kathleen

...

I heard the hall before I saw it. Fara was saying something, a chant. “ _ An na sa pha menora, sah cah etalo indi, _ ” And so on. We turned the corner, and there she was, walking in a runed circle. With the look on her face, she didn’t want to do it. When she spotted us, her eyes widened, but she kept chanting, occasionally stopping. However, when she stopped, she seemed to be in great pain.

The guards attacked, but Alescar shot them down. Right after that, Scarpa stepped into the rune circle and touched Fara’s arm. Fara let her do it. 

...

Mina

...

There was a huge flash of light, then all was still. We rushed to the circle.

Fara was standing straight, smiling. She waved her hand, and all the runes disappeared. Then her smile faded. She looked at us.

“Follow me,” She said, her voice like water over glass, “We must get to Varda before the guards do. You may have stopped the genocide, but you have not stopped the trap.” I was confused, but followed her as she ran. She was surprisingly fast for someone in a long skirt. 

...

Scarpa

...

Oh, come on. I remove a spell, but now we had to go remove Varda from a trap that would likely kill her. That was too complicated. 

“So what exactly is going on?” Alescar asked. She seemed suspicious.

“Morgoth had me rig a trap to kill Varda if I were ever to get free,” She answered, “Oh, and I’m sorry about using you to come over. The short version of events is that Morgoth planned to use the deaths of one thousand people to power a spell to remove his banishing. I was simply a tool.” No kidding. Necromancy was too dangerous for anyone to willingly take part in it. 

“What sort of trap did you rig?” Kathleen asked.

“A spell of death on a twenty minute timer, as well as tripwires and pressure plates connected to blades if anyone tried to rescue her.” 

“Okay.” She replied. From then on we ran in silence.

...

Alescar

...

We had to walk carefully, as well as quickly. 75% of the floor was made of pressure plates, and the walls were  _ covered _ in strings. When we reached the endgame, I could see Varda, held immobile by ten different spells, which Fara quickly undid. Varda carefully walked to us. She regarded Fara coolly. 

“So my captor is my savior. What an interesting turn of events.” Fara’s content expression soured.

“My lady,” I broke in, hoping to avoid the tension, “We must be going.” 

“Yes,” Varda replied, “We should. I suppose we will have to fight the wargs. Did you summon anything else?” She asked Fara.

“No,” Fara answered, “The wolves were merely there to give everyone something to fight.”

“Good.” Then she turned to Kathleen. She held up her hand, and a sword coalesced into it. She handed the blade to Kathleen. Then she looked back at Fara. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

...

Marlee

...

I hated wargs. The moment I killed one, there was another, one grim face after the next. My dagger flashed in the night. It was silver, good for killing wolves. All it took was one wound.

Scarpa flew overhead, leaving a trail of death wherever she touched down, although she managed to only kill wolves. It was like she was made for this fighting, neat and precise. Her scales glinted in the moonlight. It was about when I was noticing this that I almost got decapitated, and went back into the fight.

...

Aragog

...

My blade swung until all the wargs in one area were dead, then I moved on to the next area. I briefly noticed Gondorian and Rohirrim soldiers in the sea of fur, including Eowyn. She had proven herself fighting the Witch King of Angmar, and was now considered a soldier. 

Finally, all the wargs were dead. Some were crisscrossed by giant claw marks, but the ones that were steaming had been cut down but Kathleen’s sword, which was now glowing. All the people who had been fighting, including Fara and Varda, were now gathering to Aragorn. 

...

Kathleen

...

Aragorn was trying to find out who was dead, but by all reports, no one was. It was a much cleaner fight than the last battle in this area, and not even the horses had been killed. Scarpa had turned back into a human, and was currently talking with Mina, who looked energized. Nothing like fighting wargs at three in the morning. I was exhausted, from both physical activity and lack of sleep. 

A few minutes later and we were riding doubles with  a few of the soldiers. A few more minutes, and we were riding into the city. We were led to rooms, and I passed out.

...

Mina

...

When I woke up the day after the battle, Kathleen was already up. No matter how little sleep she had gotten, she always woke up at six. It was uncanny.

“What time is it?” I asked her.

“Seven,” She answered, “A. M.” Suddenly, Fara walked in, Varda and Marlee close behind. 

“It’s time for you to go home,” Fara said. 

“Um, how?” I asked. I was honestly perplexed.

“The bracelets,” Varda explained, “The Silmarils have been in both worlds, and with the right spell, they should take you three back. Close your eyes.” I did, and I felt the world slip out from under my feet.

...

Marlee

...

I landed on the grass behind Kathleen’s house. I still had my dagger. It was mid afternoon, and I felt energized.  _ No time has passed _ , I realized,  _ It’s the same time it was when we left _ . I voiced these thoughts, and Kathleen answered, startling me.

“That’s the way it was the last time, too.” 

“What? You’ve been there before?!” My voice was accusing, “Tell me everything.”

“Okay,” She agreed, and we headed into the house. As we walked, I noticed wrought iron bracelets on their wrists, set with white stones.

...

Scarpa

...

I was headed away from the city when Arwen caught up to me. 

“Wait,” She said, her voice catching my attention, “You don’t have to leave.”

“I’ll be back,” I promised, and I knew that I would, “I just need to explain to everyone in Far Harad that you won’t kill them on site.” It was odd. I didn’t even know Arwen, had barely spoken to her, and yet, I felt a sort of kinship with her.

“Okay,” She said, “But just remember: I also know what it feels like to live for centuries and still feel young.” I smiled.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered, and she turned around, disappearing into a maze of streets. Her words rang true with me. I had lived for so long, yet still felt eighteen. I was frozen it time. Smiling sadly, I turned into a dragon, knowing that I would never be able to get her face out of my mind forever. And yet, I was okay with that.

...

Alescar

...

I felt him behind me, even before he spoke.

“The ships will be leaving soon. You’d best be on them.” His voice was sad. 

“Must I?” I felt contemplative. Maybe it was from the disaster we averted.

“Yes,” He answered sadly, “You belong there.”

I felt something tug inside me, the knowledge that I would live forever, that there would always be another tomorrow for me, but not for Aragog. I knew that I would miss the pristine beaches, the deep forests, but those could wait for my next tomorrow.

“My soul belongs there,” I told him, “But my heart belongs with you.” And then I was kissing him, full on the mouth. When we broke apart, I felt giddy. And I knew, somehow, that everything would turn out okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I started with Alescar, so it feels fitting that I should end with her, too. Thank you for bearing with her story until the end.


End file.
